Fifty Clocked
by Master Gamer
Summary: A 50 year old Sonic reflects on his life.


Fifty Clocked- By Courtney "Master Gamer" Johnson  
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Copyright information: The beginning of this story written as a fanfiction contest teaser. It is not copyrighted, and may be modified as the author sees fit. Any fanfiction written with this teaser may be freely distributed. The Sonic characters are copyrighted by Sega.  
  
Fifty Clocked is an experimental intellectual piece set from (a much older and wiser) Sonic's POV within the SSS universe, but not directly within the continuity. Meant to be short, boring and thought-provoking, this is the first such piece I have ever done and therefore, is purely for practice. Note that while based within the continuity, there are a couple references or direct recalls to certain events happening in SSS.  
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"I'll head him off, Knux!" Sonic yelled, dashing into a side passage. Knuckles bolted down the main tunnel, heart thundering in his chest. Metal Sonic's jet engine was hideously loud in the underground caverns, and he was already ahead of them both, homing in on the Hidden Palace where the Master Emerald was enthroned.  
  
Curse that robot! He had come out of nowhere, screeched around Knuckles and Sonic, and rocketed into the Floating Island's inner passages. He must have followed them down from the surface. Knuckles cursed himself for not noticing, and Sonic for distracting him with his chatter about chaos emeralds and Chaos Control.  
  
He passed a side passage and heard Sonic's echoing footsteps ahead of him. Maybe Sonic would beat Mecha there. The passages were so winding and convoluted that it would take Mecha a while to get there, even with his afterburner. The odor of his exhaust tainted all the air, and Knuckles cursed him--apart from everything else, it would take years for such air pollution to disperse from the subterranean passages.  
  
Knuckles turned down a side tunnel, ducking to avoid the low ceiling, and sprinted along bent nearly double. He knew all the old highways, and with any luck, he could cut the robot's lead and arrive in Hidden Palace the same time as Sonic.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, gasping for breath, Knuckles skidded into the high blue cavern of Hidden Palace. The Master Emerald was set on a pedestal in a bed of seed crystals. There was no sign of Sonic, but Metal Sonic's jet was echoing up the nearest entry tunnel. Knuckles sprang at the doorway and smashed his fists into the supports on the sides. The rock gave way, and the mouth of the tunnel collapsed in an explosion of dust and debris. Knuckles retreated, pleased to hear that Mecha's jet was now muffled and distant.  
  
Then it shut off.  
  
Knuckles stood still, straining his ears for any indication of where his enemy was. There were two more entrance passages, but he had come through one, and the other led out into Lava Reef. Metal Sonic would take hours to find his way through...  
  
A loud ping echoed through the cave, and Knuckles covered his ears. Unless Mecha used radar to map the tunnels, of course. Where the devil was Sonic?  
  
The robot appeared in the far doorway, his eyes shining red and evil in the gloom. Knuckles ran to put himself between the robot and the Master Emerald. "Stay where you are, Mecha."  
  
"That's a good idea," said the robot. "I don't need to resort to hand to hand violence to kill you. A single bullet works just as well." He opened a panel on his hip and removed a tiny pistol.  
  
Knuckles backed away, putting the Master Emerald's pedestal between himself and danger. Metal Sonic circled, trying to keep him in view. "Once the Guardian is dead, there will be no one to stop me from taking the Master Emerald for myself. Its fragments in my core will make me the most powerful being in the world, and the rest of the emerald will sell for an exceptionally high price."  
  
Knuckles heard the scuffle of sneakers on marble floor, and looked over his shoulder to see Sonic standing in the far entrance, panting and surveying the situation. Knuckles returned his gaze to Mecha to see the robot's arm flick up, aim briefly, and fire.  
  
Sonic flashed in front of him, and it was over before Knuckles realized what had happened. Sonic landed on his knees and doubled up, and there was blood on his hands. Metal Sonic lowered the pistol and began to laugh, staring at Sonic.  
  
Knuckles charged.  
  
I woke up, clutching my stomach so tight there were pressure marks. My adrenaline flowing, I instinctively reached around my backside to pull out my metal gloves--but not finding them there. The nightmares never end--but it's expected, especially after everything I've been through in fifty years.  
  
A half of a century, a half of a million experiences, and several instances of half-death; now the half in half-death has turned into very-near. Hedgehogs don't live as long as humans do, and that's why I will soon be eating my last meal, be having my last nightmare, I will no longer wake up in the morning and study my scarred hands. To have lived this long - surviving the entire length of a war is no less than a miracle--but that ended twenty years ago. I have fifty clocked now, and I've seen it all... I've seen the thunder and lighting, the space and ground-- the heavens and hells of this world and my hands are only the visible scars.  
  
A couple of years ago, 4490 I lost Juke and Knuckles (naturally) to old age as well. It's down to me and Tails-- and Tails is due also. Heh, I can see the headlines now: "In a matter of half of a decade, the four heroes who saved the world--all gone through a force which not even they can conquer." Yeah, things have a way of sneaking up on you and catching you off-guard like a gun slipping out of your hands just as you're about to fire, throwing your accuracy off and the laser into someone that shouldn't have been hit.  
  
Death is often called the last step in life. It's where you ride into the sunset of immortality. In reality, it's not you that is immortal, but your image--a cracked mirror of the crazy ideas you pulled and the way you ran into death, looked straight into its eyes and said "screw you" If it really is true, I will live more than forever.  
  
Looking back, I see there so many things I could have changed--I could have thrown off the robots and saved my family--but I didn't... I should have rushed to scrap brain the instant the name "Robotnik" was mentioned... but I didn't. I could have stopped everything, but instead I rushed into a trap at Mount Marble.  
  
That was only the beginning of the end right there. The minute I was captured I died and was reincarnated a soldier, complete with killer instinct and an unrestrained hatred for the "good doctor". 'Never was able to get over that irony.  
  
At that moment, I hadn't realized what kind of Hellish nightmare I was in for until I met Robotnik--and lemme tell ya, you can feel the evil in that man from a mile away. Barely anyone ever goes to Robotnik's Hell and comes back with any secrets still secret. While I've survived it multiple times (barely). The first few times are the worst; the long, cold nights spent not knowing whether or not the sun will rise the next morning.... I would have died the first time had Juke not defected, but around the third or fourth times you know you're too valuable to die--Though that's of no comfort to someone caught in the middle of 'Botnik's chemistry experiments.  
  
Whoever said "War is hell" got it completely wrong. War is the forces of evil coming against me to die; Hell is where Robotnik went after he met me. These thoughts keep me awake when I need to be awake, which is usually when my body wants to let go. Must be all the training I did. But training can't keep a person from making stupid mistakes--the type that kill somebody, and that was the whole point of "everyone's got a day". If you're lucky, you might just live through a mistake or two, and if you're downright crazy, you'll run away from death before his horse can keep up. I remember the time I was on recon field-training mission and I had to get to a place where I could pinpoint the location of a certain building. I managed to make it to the top of a hill where I could see, but I hadn't thought of how to get off of. I tried climbing down in a hand-by-hand, foot-by-foot way, but that didn't work... clearly.  
  
If I had been smart, I woulda walked to the nearest dead tree and used my rope to rappel from it y'know? I wasn't that smart, and I paid for it in air--the newly found air below my feet that is. Hit-hit-hit I became a rolling rock and only came to a stop by holding my hand out to slow myself--tearing it up pretty bad in the process. But by the time I got off, I had no complaints, I was just glad to be off, realizing it coulda been an awful lot worse. Heck, the worst part of it was the fact that Knuckles saw me... dang.  
  
That was probably the single most embarrassing training accident, and all because I'd done something real dumb... but heck I never was smart, maybe its what kept me alive and runnin' If I was smart, I wouldn't have ever tried to save people, kill 'Botnik and wouldn't have been properly trained to do so--But yet if I was smart, I'd have always lived in fear; the type of panic and anticipation found when you're laying in a chair surrounded by tables with sharp tools on them. But then there's another type of fear-- the fear of losing everything... The type of fear that drives people into a hundred-to-one odds, into the heat of battle or even into death itself. Dumb people's fear that makes dumb people do even dumber things. Yea, I wasn't smart at all.  
  
Right now I wish I knew what is lying not far away from me, I am scared, but possibly I will never worry again for whether or not our camp is discovered, never worry whether or not anyone will come out of Robotropolis (alive or barely). I will never again worry whether the red lights in the distance are diagnostic signals or the eyes of something sinister, and I will never kill again.  
  
My eyes are failing, can't see 3 feet ahead and my ears hear little... If my mouth could open, I wouldn't be able to hear that either. Final Hours turn into final minutes, and half-minute turns into half-death. Finally... brain... down... hard...think...gone...  
  
A final, nearly imperceptible and equally inaudible breath marked the end of Sergeant Sonic T. Hedgehog. Hero by his friends, savior of the civilized world and a legend of future generations to come. 


End file.
